Sammy Evans: The Demon Barber of McKinley High
by Arpad07
Summary: Sam Evans has a dilemma. The school musical is Sweeney Todd. But he wants to sink his teeth into a bigger role than Anthony Hope. This is the story of Sam's audition, the rehearsal process, and performance of Sweeney Todd, as he falls for Kurt. Slash.
1. Chapter 1: The Ballad of Sweeney Todd

**Title**: _Sammy Evans: The Demon Barber of McKinley High_  
**Author**: arpad07**  
****Pairing**: Kurt/Sam  
**Rating**: T... for right now.  
**Warning(s)**: Boy slash.  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee. Nor Sweeney Todd. If I did own either, Sam and Kurt would be doing much more in the shower, and Helena Bonham Carter would not have been cast as Mrs. Lovett. It would have been Angela Lansbury. Or Patti Lupone.

**Summary**: Sam Evans has a dilemma. The school musical is Sweeney Todd. But he wants to sink his teeth into a bigger role than Anthony Hope. This is the story of Sam's audition, the rehearsal process, and performance of Sweeney Todd, as he falls for Kurt. Slash.

**Chapter 1: The Ballad of Sweeney Todd**

"Sweeney Todd," Will Schuester announced as the flipped the whiteboard to the other side. _Sweeney Todd _was written in blood red, with drawn droplets of blood sliding down the board. Kurt shrieked and turned to Mercedes. The rest of the girls in the club were freaking out over the words written on the white board.

"Okay, I can see some of us are excited!" Will mentioned as he looked from the ecstatic girls to the incredibly confused guys. "Have any of you heard of Sweeney Todd before?"

"Was that supposed to be a question, Mr. Schue? Kurt asked.

"Um, I don't know what Sweeney Todd is," murmured Finn as he shared a confused look with Puck and Sam.

"Kurt, would you please explain Sweeney Todd to those who have never heard of it?" Will asked politely. Kurt sighed and, rolling his eyes, turned to the boys.

"Sweeney Todd is the most ingenious piece of musical theatre in the history of musical theatre. Based on an old English myth, it tells the story of a murderous barber who slits the throats of unsuspecting customers and then has his accomplice, Mrs. Lovett, bake the bodies into meat pies."

"This is a musical?" The boys looked really excited. Kurt, once again, rolled his eyes.

"Yes. Not all musicals are peppy and about singing and dancing. Sweeney was composed by the pretty-much undisputed musical theatre god, Stephen Sondheim. The show is a beautifully entrancing piece about the price of revenge."

"Well, as most of you know, the school musical is coming up. This year, we're doing Sweeney Todd!" Will grinned as the girls (and Kurt) started chattering immediately, excited beyond belief. Even the guys seemed pretty happy, what with the choice of a musical about slitting throats and baking people into pies.

"One more quick announcement," Will shouted as the bell rang, and people began to move towards the door. "We want to do something interesting in terms of casting this year, so the roles of Toby and Mrs. Lovett will be gender neutral."

Rachel exploded in anger and outrage. "What is that supposed to mean, Mr. Schue? 'Gender neutral?' Does this mean that Mrs. Lovett could be a guy? After all the times last year-"

Kurt grinned, and innocently asked, "What? Afraid to go up against me?" The rest of the club chuckled as Rachel, fuming, stormed out of the room.

"Kurt, I've got to get to class. We'll talk over lunch." Mercedes turned and ran towards the door, hoping to beat the hallway crowds. Kurt shrugged and started toward the door. He got about halfway down the hallway, when he noticed someone was hurrying to catch up to him. He turned and smiled, seeing Sam jogging a foot or two behind.

"Hey," Kurt said quietly. He was still not so sure about how to make out Sam. Although he was positive that the boy dyed his hair, he was afraid that he had gone to far last week. Although Sam hadn't seemed to mind Kurt's forthcoming attitude.

"Hey. Where are you heading?"

"I have a free. You?"

"Me too. You mind if I hang with you this period? We could go somewhere fun?"

"Like where, exactly?"

"I don't know, maybe the auditorium."

Kurt smiled. "Ok. Sounds good to me." The two boys continued walking down the empty hallway. "So, are you going to try out for the musical?"

"Um, don't most of us have to? I mean, we're in Glee, right?"

Kurt chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so. But I guess you could always blow your audition, if you didn't really want a part."

Sam smiled softly. "Quinn and I talked about it a bit. She seemed really excited. She wants me to try out with her."

"It's audition, not try out."

Sam grinned and laughed. "Picky, picky. Okay, so Quinn wants me to audition for Anthony while she auditions for Johanna."

"That would work. You would be a great Anthony."

"Thanks. That means a lot. See, the thing is, I've never actually seen Sweeney Todd. I know you love it, and I was wondering if we could maybe do something this weekend, and watch it?"

_Oh. My. Gucchi. Is Sam Evans, the Greek Adonis of my fantasy for the past week or so, asking me to his house this weekend? Say something, Kurt. Anything. Now. _

"Sure, I would, um, love to, ah, do something with y-you. This weekend. At my house."

"How does Friday sound?"

"Friday's great."

"Awesome! It's a date."

Kurt swooned as Sam walked off, and tried to not stare at his backside as he walked down the hall.

Kurt carefully steered himself to his usual lunch table, where Mercedes was waiting, a big plate of tater tots in front of her. She was eat them like there was no tomorrow. Kurt set his tray down and practically fell into the chair, resting for a moment. He had spent two hours during his free practicing his dance routine, and he was exhausted. He picked up an apple from his tray and took a bite, the juice making his mouth water.

"What's up, white boy? You've been really quite today. What's with you?" Mercedes asked as she continued to pile the tots into her mouth. Kurt reached over and grabbed her arm. They both laughed and she began to slow down.

"What's up with you, 'Cedes? You don't normally eat so fast unless something's wrong." Kurt knew his girl well, and she slowly nodded.

"I'm kinda nervous," the girl admitted. "I want a part, but I don't really know who to try ou- audition, sorry, for." Kurt laughed after Mercedes had corrected herself after remembering about Kurt's attempt to teach her more about theatre.

"Listen, 'Cedes, you'll be fine. You have one of the most fabulous voices I have ever heard. If anyone will be left out of getting a part, it'll be me."

Mercedes' eyes widened as she realized what was bothering Kurt. "You're upset because of what Rachel said, aren't you?" Kurt nodded, a sad but distant look on his face. "Now you listen to me, Kurt Hummel. You are the most fabulous person I know, and you are gonna get that part. Ain't no white girl gonna mess that up for you. So you go and bring it, white boy."

Kurt smiled, looking happy for the first time through out the meal. "Thanks, 'Cedes. You always know how to cheer me up."

"What are friends for?"


	2. Chapter 2: Attending the Tale

AN: I am so glad people like the fic! Thank you for everyone who put it on alerts, and thanks for the reviews. I am like Tinkerbell. I need reviews to live. So keep them Kumming!

**Chapter 2: Attending the Tale**

_Knock. Knock. _He was at the door. Kurt raced up the stairs, tripping on the coffee table on the way to the door. Kurt had been home for hours. He had skipped the last two periods of school, and spent 5 hours picking out an outfit. He tried on and exchanged 15 outfits before he found the right one to wear. His hair was damp from the shower he had taken an hour ago; he had just gotten out 20 minutes ago. Kurt's hair was in perfect position, and he moved to open the door. Well, his hair was almost perfect. Noticing a stray hair that fell onto his forehead, Kurt stopped and swiftly pushed it back into place. He grabbed a can of hairspray from the table and quickly sprayed the can in the air in front of him. He stepped through the cloud of hairspray and opened the door.

Sam Evans stood at the front door of the Hummel household, wearing the same outfit he had worn the day Kurt first saw him walk through the door of the choir room. Which was a week ago.

"Did you happen to wash that before you came here?"

Sam started to laugh and nodded. "Of course I did. Didn't want to have to sleep outside tonight."

"Sleep outside? Why would you be sleeping- when did we agree that this was a sleep over?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I-I thought it would be fine. My mom is out and she wanted me to stay over at a friend's house tonight. I told her I would stay here. Do you mind? I don't want to impose, but-"

"It's no problem, Sam. I would-" Kurt paused, breathing deeply, then pressed his lips together and smiled reassuringly. "I would love for you to stay for the night."

Sam's smile lit up the room. "Thanks, Kurt. You're the best."

Kurt smiled wider, but underneath, he was freaking out. _He's sleeping over? How am I supposed to judge whether I'm too forceful or not? He's a guy; isn't like, a rule in straight-boys' books that they can't sleep over at the gay kid's house? _Kurt had no time to ponder this mysterious occurrence, because Sam was pulling him towards the basement.

"We're watching it downstairs, right? In your bedroom?"

"Yeah, we are- how did you know my bedroom was in the basement?"

Sam's cheeks turned rosey red as he blushed. "Um, I, um. I asked Finn. And he told me. Where you live. In this house. Cause he's here all the time."

"Okay then. Do you want popcorn?" Kurt shouted behind him as he went into the kitchen to make himself some. When there was no immediate response, he looked back to see a more solemn Sam deep in thought.

"Do you want some popcorn? Sam?"

"N- no thank you. I'm fine." Sam looked down at his shoes.

"Soda?"

"Nah, I'll have a water."

Kurt nodded slowly. Something was up. Kurt grabbed a bottle of water and tossed it to Sam, then poured a cup of cranberry juice for himself and placed a popcorn bag in the microwave. Sam caught the bottle, tucking it into his chest.

"You have a good arm. You should join the football team."

"Oh please, and wear those pants everyday? Besides, I was on it last year. Did no good. And I'm on the Cheerios now, which I enjoy more."

Sam looked shocked. "You were on the football team last year?"

"Mm-hm." Kurt nodded. "I was the kicker. Only time you guys won last year. Ask Finn. He'll tell you."

"So what's this Sweeney Todd about? Tell me."

Kurt turned and sat down next to Sam.

"As I said in glee, Sweeney Todd is the tragic tale of a barber, Benjamin Barker, who lived with his beautiful wife, Lucy, and their child. Johanna was her name. Pretty little Johanna. Anyway, Lucy had caught the eye of this disgusting Judge, Judge Turpin. He had Benjamin trumped up on a made-up charge so he could get with Lucy. Benjamin was sent to prison in Australia, leaving a heartbroken Lucy and her child."

"That's awful. How could anyone do that to someone?"

"It gets worse."

"Of course it does."

"Turpin invites Lucy to a ball, and she goes. Stupidly, I might add. Poor thing. He gets her drunk and then rapes her in front of everyone. She goes home and drinks arsenic. Turpin takes Johanna in as his ward."

"I'm liking this Turpin guy less and less."

"Yeah, he's a creep. Anyway, years have passed, and Benjamin has returned to London. Except now he goes by the name of Sweeney Todd. He returns to his barber shop to find this old hag, Mrs. Lovett, running a pie shop below it. Her business is horrible and her pies taste like-"

"Shit?"

"Yes. Anyway, Mrs. Lovett is madly in love with Sweeney. Always has been. So she kept his razors, and together they hatch a plan together: slit the throats of Turpin and other sinful people. To get rid of the dead bodies, Mrs. Lovett bakes them into pies. It's a win-win for the both of them."

"This musical sounds awesome."

"It is. So do you want to watch the movie or the OBC recording?"

"The what?"

"The OBC recording. The Original Broadway Cast. It's a term theatre people use to distinguish between the original show and the revivals."

"Oh. Kind of like the OS and the NG. Or the first trilogy and the second one."

"What?"

"Sorry, dork talk. The Original Series and the New Generation. It's a Star Trek thing. You know, with these things?" Sam made the Trekkie greeting sign. "And the first Star Wars trilogy and the second. Although I like to pretend the second one never existed."

"Oh, I get it now. It's okay, I like your dork talk. It's—endearing."

The two unlikely companions smiled at each other for a moment. Then the microwave started beeping. Sam walked over to the microwave, pulled out the popcorn, and tentatively ate a piece.

"I thought you said you didn't want any?"

"I might as well eat it if you made it."

"So which one do you want to watch?"

Sam thought for a moment. "Could we watch the movie first, and then the musical? That way I have a sense of both."

Kurt nodded. "No problem to me. Let's go set up the TV."

Kurt led Sam to the basement door, and the blond-haired jock raced down the steps two at a time. Kurt laughed.

"Someone's excited!" Sam laughed as well, nodding his head. Kurt shook his head and followed him. He reached the end of the stairs and went over to his DVD collection, carefully selecting the Sweeney Todd feature film from its case and placed it in the DVD player. Ten minutes later, as the first notes of _No Place Like London _chimed on the screen, Kurt was snuggled up next to Sam, munching on popcorn.

_I have sailed the world, and seen its wonders, like the Dardanelles or the mountains of Peru, but there's no place like London!... I feel home again..._

_..._

_The blood slowly dripped from Sweeney's throat as he sighed for the last time, ceasing to move again. The camera tilts and follows the blood as Toby scurries away in the background..._

"So, how did you like it?" Kurt asked, eager to hear Sam's response.

"I loved it! Oh my Eywa, it was amazing. So much better than any other slasher film I've ever seen. But seriously, Turpin totally deserved it. And so did that Anthony. He sucked. He did absolutely nothing. I can't believe that Quinn wants me to play him. He's so boring."

"You'd make a great Anthony!" Kurt insisted.

"What, you think Anthony is the only think I'm talented enough for? You think I can't act?"

"No, of course not. I'm sure you can act just fine, it's just it fits your personality better-"

"What? Do I stalk people?"

Kurt started laughing.

"It's not funny, Kurt! I want to play a meaty role. I want to be challenged. I want to be good."

Kurt looked at Sam for a moment, studying him. "Why?"

"I don't think I've told anyone this, but I used to do theatre at my old school. Not a lot, but I loved it. It was fun. It was kind of why I wanted to join glee club in the first place. But then high school happened,football, and I transferred. Well, now that I have the chance, I would like to try to get back that feeling. The feeling of standing on a stage and feeling exposed and yet liberated at the same time. Something only theatre can do for a person. Besides, I feel no connection to Anthony."

"Well, who do you feel a connection with?" Sam looked straight into Kurt's eyes, and responded,

"Sweeney."

Kurt smiled knowingly."I thought so. Here. Here's what we'll do. We'll watch the musical, and then we can decide who you're auditioning for."

"Okay. Sounds good to me."

Sam waited as Kurt popped in the DVD. As the lights dimmed, the first notes of the _Ballad of Sweeney Todd _hung in the air, followed by the screech of the whistle...

_... _

_To seek revenge may lead to hell,_

_But everyone does so,_

_If seldom as well_

_As Sweeney._

_As Sweeney Todd._

_The Demon Barber of Fleet Street._

The thunderous applause started as Kurt paused the movie and ejected the disc.

"Wow. The person playing Mrs. Lovett in this was ten times better than that Bellatrix person from the movie. In fact, most of it was better. It felt more…complete. And I loved the music even more."

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it so much. I do see why you wouldn't want to play Anthony. You should go for Sweeney."

"Thanks. Who are you auditioning for?"

Kurt froze and turned pale. He shook his head, obviously uptight about the whole thing. Sam touched his shoulder, and Kurt flinched.

"Come on. You can tell me. Trust me."

Kurt slowly lifted his head. His eyes were wet. His mouth opened, and he whispered: "Mrs. Lovett," wiping tears from his eyes.

"Why are you so upset over that? You'd be great!"

Kurt brightened a little, but looked down. "You really think so?"

"Yeah! Why don't you—oh. Is it about what Rachel said earlier?"

Kurt nodded.

Sam knew that Rachel and Kurt were always constantly on each other during glee, but after getting use to it, he didn't realize that Kurt took everything what Rachel would tell him to heart. He'd always come up with a witty remark to humiliate Rachel. Now he understood why. "Listen. You'll be amazing. You are one of the most talented people I have ever met. Like, seriously. When I listened to those MP3s you sent me, I thought it was Faith Hill."

"You listened to all 60 MP3s?"

"Well—um, not all of them. Okay, I did."

"You really thought I was that good?"

"No. I didn't think you were that good. You were incredible. Seriously, your rendition of Le Jazz Hot blew me away. You deserve this, Kurt. Actually, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping me out. Since you'll be auditioning for Mrs. Lovett, and I'll be auditioning for Sweeney, maybe we could prepare for these roles together. Help each other out."

Kurt looked up to a beaming Sam and smiled."It's a deal."


	3. Chapter 3: Mischief on Your Mind

**Chapter 3: Mischief On Your Mind**

Kurt sat in the driving seat of his Navigator. The larger stylish car, which was pristinely polished and waxed until Kurt could see his own brilliant reflection in it was a dark shade of black, his car was his baby. No one messed with his baby. He glanced at the clock. 1:34. He had been in the house for ten minutes. Kurt wondered what was taking him so long. However, he was happy. He had gotten to know Sam, and would get to know him better still. The two had watched a few more movie musicals, the less intense ones. Hairspray, Dreamgirls, Singing in the Rain. Surprisingly, Sam remembered the latter one from its mention in their very brief partnership during the duets competition. Kurt was sure he had seen Sam wiping tears from his eyes at the end of Dreamgirls, although he fervently denied it. It was at that point that Kurt had suggested that they watch some of Sam's favorite movies. To make it fair. Sam, however, started raving like a madman about how he had forgotten his DVD's at home, and how they had to drive to his house to pick them up. Kurt looked at the clock again. 1:37. Where was he?

Kurt glanced up as he saw Sam hurrying from the house. He noticed, with interest, the blond jock hurriedly wiped his eyes and, clutching a stack of DVDs, made his way to the car.

He was crying. He knew that look. He always got it himself when he was emotional. _No wonder it took him so long. I wonder what happened. Better not push him, though. I don't want to seem weird about it._

Sam reached the door plumped down in the seat next to Kurt and began going on about some Spock guy and his friend Kirk who were more than friends. Kind of like Ken and his "friend," Allan, or Andy, or whatever his name was. He kept switching topics, too. He was so full of energy! Kurt tried to remain alert and nodded in all the right places. It was the least he could do for Sam after all the time they had spent that night watching musicals. Something about a flex capacity or something. Probably something to do with lifting weights. He was brought back to the car ride when Sam nudged him.

"Did you hear me?"

"No, sorry. I kind of zoned out for a minute. What did you say?"

"No problem. I asked you what your core was. Mine is dragon heartstring."

"My what?"

"Your core. Your wand core. From Harry Potter. Dude, tell me you've seen Harry Potter?"

"Don't call me "dude". I feel like I'm losing brain cells just being in the vicinity of the word. And no, I haven't."

"You haven't seen Harry Potter? Not once? Du- sorry, man, I so know what we're doing tonight!"

"Let me guess. We're watching Harry Potter?"

"Kurt, we are going to do more than just watch Harry Potter. I am preparing you for July!"

"And what is in July, besides a few days after the Tonys?"

"Um, Kurt, Deathly Hallows Part 2 comes out! What are you talking about? Okay, so tonight we'll watch the first and second movies. Philosopher's Stone and Chamber of Secrets. Extended edition, of course. Then we can chill until breakfast!"

"And whatever happened to sleep?"

"Oh, yeah. We can do that too."

"Okay, so why don't you explain this phenomenon to me before we get to my house?"

"Okay, so Harry Potter is like the single most successful novel series, like, ever."

"I thought that was Twilight?"

"Dude! How could you even think that? Twilight sucks. We shall never speak its name. Ever. Or I shall sic Buffy on them."

"Who's Buf-"

"Dorky reference. Sorry."

"Don't be. It's... cute."

Kurt smiled at Sam, and Sam started to tear up a bit. Oh Gucci, no. This is not how this was supposed to turn out! Now what have I done?

"Are you okay? Why-"

"I- I'm f-fine. I'm just so happy. It's the first time since I've came here that I felt it was okay to be me. I'm starting to remember all that I had to give up to be cool, and you know, popular."

"I think you being yourself is much cooler and better than any imaginative persona you created for yourself."

"Y-you really think so?"

Kurt nodded, starting to tear up slightly himself. "Much better."

Sam wiped his eyes and sniffled, a watery smile peaking through the tears. "I'm happy that we're friends. It makes me feel, well more like myself. Like there is really nothing wrong with me."

"Sam, listen to me. There is nothing wrong with you. Everyone has different interests. You shouldn't hide yourself to please anyone. You are the only person who has to look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the day."

"Thanks, Kurt. Okay, so where was I? Right, you are never to speak about Twilight. Ever again. So yeah, Harry Potter tells the story of a young wizard by the name of-"

"Let me guess. Harry Potter?"

"Yeah! Exactly. He's best friends with Ron and Hermione, and they go through adventures together. Hermione is the brainiac who they find irritating but they love her anyway."

"So she's basically Rachel?"

"Actually, she's almost exactly like Rachel. They go to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The headmaster is Albus Dumbledore, the most amazing teacher ever. Like, even better than Mr. Schue. So Harry goes to Hogwarts, where he..."

...

As the credits scrolled, Sam turned to Kurt expectantly. He stared, waiting for a response. Kurt finally looked over, giggling to himself.

"You look like an overexcited puppy."

"Sorry, I love Harry Potter."

"You are such a dork!" laughed Kurt. Sam began to blush and stammer, to which Kurt quickly responded, "I didn't mean it in a bad way! I think it's cute. How much you care for your passions. Like me and musical theatre."

Sam grinned. Kurt laughed. He hadn't had so much fun in months. Not even his sleepovers with the New Directions girls had made him so happy. He really was falling bad. He had to control himself.

"So, did you like it?"

"Yes, actually. I surprisingly loved it. I thought the characters were brilliantly crafted, and the world was... enchanting. An excellent film. Well, two excellent films."

"Just wait until I get you reading the series! You'll love it. The movies may be good, but the books are so much better. Who was your favorite character?"

"Dumbledore. By far. Although I loved Hermione as well. And she was way less infuriating than Rachel. I thought she was a mix of Rachel's irritability, and my fabulousness. Who do you relate most to?"

"Ron. I am definitely Ron. If you're Hermione, that is."

"What, so you think we're going to end up dating?"

"W-what? No! O-of course not. Never. Never ever. Not in a million years. Wait, how did you know Hermione and Ron got together?"

"Um, hello? Did you not sense all of the sexual tension? They totally wanted each other!"

The two boys descended into laughter. Sam picked up a piece of popcorn and tossed it into his mouth. It was their third bowl.

"I am totally going to regret all the popcorn and soda in the morning. Or, that is, when I have to go work it off." Kurt looked down at himself and shivered.

"Oh, come on! Live a little!"

And with that, Sam did the unthinkable. He sent a piece of popcorn sailing through the air, which had the enormous unfortunate chance of landing in Kurt's hair. Kurt froze, a look of stricken fear on his face. Sam stopped what he was doing. The silence lasted for about another minute, before Kurt picked up the bowl of popcorn, and proceeded to dump the entire contents of the bowl over Sam's head.

"You did not just do that."

Sam tackled Kurt, and held him down, tickling him. Kurt shrieked and kicked and whined, attempting to get the blond boy off of him. They both dissolved into laughter, and proceeded to throw more popcorn at each other.

...

A half an hour later, Kurt and Sam were lying on the couch. Kurt's hair was unruly, sticking up in random places. However, the slight discomfort of his hair mattered not at the moment. The two boys were snuggled up together, Kurt asleep. Sam slowly ran his fingers through the contra tenor's hair, sighing wistfully. A tear fell from his eye. Sam made no movement to wipe it away. It landed in Kurt's ruffled hair, which Sam continued to pet. Sam drifted into a peaceful sleep, Kurt lying next to him.

A/N: Thank you all for reading! Reviews are love. Chapter 4 will be done soon. Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4: Worst Pancakes in Lima

******Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. Nor Sweeney Todd. In fact, I own nothing by Stephen Sondheim. If I did own either, Sam and Kurt would be doing much more in the shower, and Helena Bonham Carter would not have been cast as Mrs. Lovett. It would have been Angela Lansbury. Or Patti Lupone.  
**

**Chapter 4: Worst Pancakes in Lima**

A thin stream of light illuminated what would otherwise be a pitch black room. The sun shone through the slightly cracked basement window, casting a light shade of gray over everything in the room. Nothing stirred. Popcorn lay scattered on the floor from the previous night's food fight. Half empty soda cans sit on the table, where they had been placed. Blankets were strewn across the room. Sam lay on the couch, seemingly grasping thin air. His arms were strew, as if a body that had been lying next to him had moved, leaving him alone. All was still for another moment. Then, within a moment, Sam's eyes were opened and he was taking in his surroundings. He smiled. Then, seemingly realizing that Kurt was no longer lying next to him, he rose.

Sam was a mess. His hair was full of static and stuck out in weird places, unnaturally. His tee shirt, a ratty sleeping shirt of Marvel's Universe Characters, was riding up in the back. As Sam yawned and moved to pull down the shirt, he realized that he was no longer in his boxers from last night. Sam thought for a moment. _Didn't I take those off earlier? _

During the middle of the night (around six thirty in the morning), Sam had woken up to use the bathroom. He had stumbled through the room, tripping over things, before making it to the bathroom. Not wanting to wake Kurt, he had kept the light off as he relieved himself. As he was washing his hands, he slipped on the waxed marble floor, spilling water all over his sweatpants. Cursing silently to himself, he had stripped himself of the dripping pants, content with snuggling up to Kurt in his boxers. He found, however, that he was no longer looking at his boxers, but a pair of silk pajamas. Quickly checking under the pajamas, he sighed with the realization that he was still wearing his boxers. He smiled; obviously Kurt was worried about him getting cold at night. Or he didn't want to sleep with a practically nude Sam. Sam frowned. He hoped that wasn't the case.

Ever since Sam Evans had set sight on the boy, he knew he was in love. Kurt was perfect; he had this amazing voice that soared over everyone else's in Glee club; he was super-sexy in his fashionable skinny jeans that showed off his perfect little- Sam stopped thinking those dangerous thoughts immediately. He was in Kurt's house, and he definitely didn't want to creep out the kid. But still, Kurt was amazing. Sam had been so hurt when Kurt had ended the duet. He was just happy that he was getting to know the contra tenor better now. Plus, there was Le Jazz Hot, which was _hot_. Like, sizzling hot. He had to run for the bathroom afterwards just from watching it... _Oh, wow. To much information. Brain overload. Think of Beiste. Think of Beiste! _Sam sighed in relief as his arousal disappeared. _Thank Eywa_. Sam turned to survey the room before slowly stumbling towards the stairs.

As Sam moved up the stairs, he heard Kurt singing. Sam smiled; he loved hearing Kurt sing. What's more, the boy was singing out of pure joy, it seemed.

"_In the meanwhile,_

_There are mouths to be kissed_

_Before mouths to be fed,_

_And a lot in between_

_In the meanwhile._

_And a girl ought to celebrate what passes by."_

Sam stood for a moment at the kitchen door, admiring the sight before him. Kurt sung to himself, dancing and swaying as he chopped up strawberries. Bacon was sizzling on the stove. However, on the table before him sat what looked like the most disgusting pancakes in existence.

They were black. Literally black. The pancakes were about the size of hockey pucks, and burnt, with crispy edges. They oozed melted chocolate. They were vomit inducing.

Kurt turned around to grab something from the fridge when he noticed Sam. His cheeks turned rosy as he smiled at the jock.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. How was your rest?"

"Great. What are those?" Sam pointed at the hockey pucks on the kitchen table. "Why do the pancakes look like hockey pucks?"

Kurt giggled, covering his mouth. "Finn made them. He stopped by earlier this morning, to apologize for- something. He made them before he went to Rachel's house. I felt bad throwing them away," Kurt stifled a chuckle. "He seemed so- proud of them. I guess cooking anything is a feat for Frankenteen."

"Aw. That was sweet of him. I guess we do have to eat them," Sam grimaced. "Why did you wake up so early?"

"I wanted to make breakfast for us. So I got up, and Finn was in the kitchen. He refused my help. After he left, I put the bacon on and started making my signature smoothies."

"Your signature smoothies? Yum. I can't wait to taste them."

Something about the way Sam stated his excitement for Kurt's smoothies caused Kurt's already pink cheeks to become a fervent red. A silence echoed for a moment before Kurt dumped the bacon on a plate, setting it on the table. He turned on the blender, and, after about thirty seconds, poured two smoothies into two glasses. He sat down opposite Sam and smiled.

"To us. As friends, and partners. May we succeed."

"To us!" _As more than just friends..._ Sam thought to himself as he downed part of the smoothie.

"How do you like it?"

"Oh my Eywa, it's amazing. Like, seriously. Best smoothie ever. You are totally making me one like everyday. 'Cause they are the bomb. Seriously."

Kurt laughed, and smiled back at Sam. "I'm glad you enjoyed it so much. It's my specialty. And I'm glad that you just implied that you will indeed be coming back over. I don't know about you, but I had fun."

"I had a great time, Kurt. Thank you for the advice last night. You're a great person, and a great friend."

Kurt sniffled for a moment, grinning back. He really liked Sam. He was sweet, and thoughtful and they seemed to mesh well together. He thought for a moment.

"Would you like to stay a little later? I was thinking we could maybe start going over audition stuff. You know, for Sweeney."

Sam nodded. "I would love that."

...

"Okay, so take a deep breath and start again. Remember your motivations in the song. And from the top."

Kurt and Sam stood in Kurt's bedroom, which was covered with audition material. Kurt had brought down a keyboard, which he plugged it to use. His bookshelf was torn apart; all of his Sweeney books were in a pile. Kurt currently had the score open at the keyboard, and Stephen Sondheim's _Finishing the Hat _open at his feet. He was madly turning the pages of both books as he played the accompaniment to Sam's audition song. Kurt had decided to prepare Sam first. He could always pull something together later on. They had spent the past hour working, searching through the score of Sondheim's masterpiece for the perfect audition number. They had eventually settled on the current selection.

"_There's a hole in the world like a great black pit_

_And it's filled with people who are filled with shit_

_And the vermin of the world inhabit it._

_But not for long..._

_They all deserve to die-"_

Sam suddenly stopped, turning to Kurt. Kurt reluctantly stopped playing _Epiphany. _He turned and faced the blond.

"I'm just not feeling it."

"What?"

"The emotions. I get that this is an amazingly emotional song, but I feel like there's no build. I haven't been experiencing what has happened. I haven't been doing the whole show; I'm out of sync. I feel like there is no emotional connection."

"Okay. I get that. Do you want to try something else?"

Sam smiled. _Do you want to try something else._ Quinn had certainly never asked something like that. Just as she thought she was forcing him to be Anthony, she always assumed Sam was fine. Besides, it wasn't his fault she assumed that they were now dating. He never said anything of the sort. He just wasn't prepared to publicly announce his feelings to the entire school. Especially if he didn't know whether Kurt returned those feelings. Sam was prepared to tell her on Monday, though. He didn't want to drag her along with him. It wouldn't be the right thing to do.

"Yeah. I don't really know what else I could try. Have any suggestions?"

Kurt sat in silence for a moment, in deep thought. He finally nodded.

"Two choices. You could do _Barber and His Wife._ That would require only getting into character for the beginning of the show. Or you could do _My Friends._"

"Isn't that a duet?"

"Yeah. We could always cut the duet part, though. You could just sing the first verse and then the Sweeney part of the second verse."

"Or we could audition together."

"Together?"

"Yeah. We probably could do a better job together than alone."

Kurt thought for a moment. It was true. The best way to show that they deserved to be cast would be to show their chemistry together. It would go a long way with Mr. Shue.

"Alright. We'll sing together. But do you really think _My Friends _would be a good choice? What about _A Little Priest_?"

"I think _My Friends _is a little more emotional, don't you? _Little Priest _is all about puns and stuff. Not saying it's not an amazing song, but I think the two of us could do wonders with _My Friends_."

"It's hard to argue with your impeccable logic. _My Friends _it is."

Sam smiled. "_My Friends. _Let's get started."

...

Sam howled with laughter, holding Kurt to steady himself. The contra tenor, however, was not of much help, as he too was cackling so much that he threatened to topple over.

"Seriously, they were, like, the absolute _worst_ pancakes I have ever had."

"Oh, don't make fun of poor Finn. It's the thought that counts."

"You're right, but did you taste them?"

"No. I thought about how hideous those hockey pucks would look sticking out of my side, where they are bound to appear on you, and my appetite suddenly... disappeared."

"Oh well, I'll just go to the gym. These babies will be ready to cut diamonds again," Sam stated, lifting his shirt up and exposing his abs.

Kurt giggled flirtatiously and moved closer to Sam.

"But seriously, they were gross. They were like _The worst pancakes, in Lima!_" Sam started singing, replacing the original lyrics with his own.

"_And no wonder with the price of meat_

_What it is_

_When you get it_

_Never_

_Thought I'd live to see the day_

_Men'd think it was a treat_

_Findin' poor_

_Animals_

_Wot are dyin' in the street!_"

Sam sung, prancing about the room. Kurt laughed and joined him, singing along.

"_Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop!_

_Does a business but I notice something weird._

_Lately all her neighbors' cats have disappeared!_

_Have to hand it to her -_

_Wot I calls_

_Enterprise_

_Poppin' pussies into pies!_

_Wouldn't do in my shop!_

_Just the thought of it's enough to make you sick!_

_And I'm tellin' you, them pussycats is quick!_

_No denying times is hard, sir_

_Even harder than the worst pancakes in Lima!_

_Only lard and nothing more -_

_Is that just revolting,_

_All greasy and gritty?_

_It looks like it's molting,_

_And tastes like,_

_Well, pity_

_A woman alone,_

_With limited wind,_

_And the worst pancakes in Lima!_

_Ah, sir, times is hard,_

_Times is hard!_"

The two boys ended the song on the couch, giggling and feeling incredibly happy. As Kurt turned to look at Sam, he noticed the boy was eyeing him. Sam's face slowly moved closer and closer in Kurt's vision; and just when it was almost close enough so their lips could touch, the door burst open.

"Hey, Kurt, Sam, I'm home!" Finn bounded into the room, full of his usual energy, completely unaware of the sexual tension he was creating by his disturbance. _Cockblock_. Sam quickly pulled away from Kurt. He turned, and stammered what was probably the stupidest thing in his life:

"I, um, I'm sorry, but I, ah, have to go. Quinn is waiting for me. My girlfriend is waiting for me. I'm sorry."

Sam fled from Kurt's house, silently cursing himself as he continued walking. He hadn't meant to say that. He was so stupid. _My girlfriend. Why can't I be more like Kurt? Why can't I be brave like him. God, he must hate me now, leading him on like that. I have to rectify my mistake, before it comes back to haunt me. Immediately._

_A/N: Suspense! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Read and review. Reviews are love. Seriously, you don't know how happy I get when I check my email to find a story, favorite or author alert. And I get even happier when there are reviews. So review. _


	5. Chapter 5: Poor Thing

A/N: I feel like such a bad person! Sorry for not updating sooner. Life is busy. Once again, reviews and alerts are love. Seriously.

**Chapter 5: Poor Thing**

_I'm sorry, but I have to go. Quinn is waiting for me. My girlfriend is waiting for me. I'm sorry..._

_My girlfriend is waiting for me. _It was those five words that stung the most. _My girlfriend. _Moreover, it was what it implied. The idea that he had been duped. The idea that he had been strung along, had his heart played with. The idea that he had been cheated on. For, even though he had never been dating Sam, that was what Kurt felt at that moment. He had been lead on. Whether Sam had intentionally done so, and chickened out, or whether Kurt had misread symbols, that is what had happened. Kurt had played a dangerous game, and he had lost. He had opened himself up, and had his heart stepped on, snapped in half. And it hurt. It stung.

Deep down, Kurt realized that he was over reacting. Even if Sam had intended it, he hadn't done much. Agreed to sing with him. Treated him like a real friend. Slept over at his house, and bonded as teammates, and friends. He had even flirted with him. Whether it was intentional, subconscious or whether Kurt had imagined it, it still happened. It was like what had happened with Finn. He had opened himself up a second time, and had been rejected. Sam had a girlfriend. Quinn. Of course it was Quinn. Finn had forced him to end it with Sam. Sam found Quinn. And now they were together. Quinn, who had already had a score of boyfriends. Quinn, who had a wonderful boy who loves her. And, of course, Kurt is once again left alone.

Had Sam actually been flirting with him? Had Kurt simply imagined it? But no, it must have happened. He remembered the moments before Finn had walked into the house. Both of them were moving closer to each other. A kiss was surely coming. Kurt was moving closer, but Sam was as well. Well then, that just meant that Sam was confused. Right?

But what if it didn't? What if Sam had opened himself up, become frightened by Finn, and will never again open himself up like that? What if he ended their partnership? Kurt needed him. They worked well together. Kurt knew that Sam was his one chance to prove himself to the group. To prove that he had what it took to succeed in the world of show business. He can't let that happen.

_Finn. That cockblock_. Although Kurt knew nothing was intentional, he was too hurt to think rationally. Tears streaming down his pale face, Kurt leapt from the coach, shoving a confused Finn out of the way. He raced out to the garage, hoping in his car, letting the melancholia of Sondheim wash over him. He didn't know where he was headed. He just needed to think.

...

He was in some coffee shop, that much was clear. How he got there, he did not know. All Kurt knew was that the hot coffee was soothing. It ran down his throat, warming his soul. He needed the heat. Needed the warmth. That much was clear.

As Kurt Hummel sat, sipping coffee, he did not notice the young man, clad in a blue uniform lined with red, eyeing him. He did not notice the young man until he was seated in front of him.

"Hey. Are you okay? You've been crying. I thought you might need someone to talk to. What's your name?"

Kurt sniffled and looked up at the complete stranger. "Kurt. I'm Kurt. You?"

The young man smiled. "I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

...

_Knock. Knock._

Quinn sighed. _Who could that possibly be? _ No one was supposed to be over; she had not called any of her friends. Her parents were out. Maybe they forgot to tell her that a workman was coming to fix something? Maybe the pipes. Must be a plumber. Ugh. That would mean she would have to watch him, to make sure he didn't steal anything. And he would probably have a problem with his pants. Quinn shivered to herself at the thought.

Sighing quietly, she walked slowly from the kitchen to the door. However, the knocking was getting more persistent. _Interesting plumber. Must be really eager to work. _Quinn shouted at the door, exclaiming that she was coming. As she flung open the front door, there was no way she could have been prepared for what she saw before her.

It was Sam Evans, her boyfriend. Crying. Hysterically. Quinn stood still for a moment, awestruck. What had happened? She attempted to mutter some sort of condolence, but the wails coming from the boy on the ground drowned out her attempts. Quinn sort of bent down, lightly patting her boyfriend on the back.

"There, there," she whispered. "What's wrong? What hap-"

She was drowned out by another loud wail. Sam grabbed onto Quinn's leg, stabling himself as he sobbed. Quinn rolled her eyes and helped Sam up. He stumbled into the house. Quinn led him to the couch, before asking, once more, what had happened.

"I am so sorry. I lied to you, because I was afraid, and I'm really, really sorry about it. Please forgive me," Sam asked, sniffling. He had stopped crying, for the moment, and was wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"What exactly am I forgiving you for? You haven't told me-"

"I'm gay, Quinn. Gay. G-A-Y. 'Captial G' gay. I told you I wasn't, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on."

"I know."

"I'm so- you do?"

"Yeah."

"Since when?"

"Since you denied it. You shifted your eyes, back and forth. You really need to work on your lying skills."

"Oh." Sam paused for a moment, buried in thought. "Why didn't you say something?"

"It was none of my business. If you wanted to confide in me, you would. And you did. Plus, letting everyone think I was dating the hot stud quarterback was fine by me."

Sam and Quinn laughed, letting the tension in the conversation slip away. Sam was relieved. She didn't hate him. He had spent the whole ride over to her house dreading the moment he had to tell her, afraid she would hate him for lying to her. He felt better now. Like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. _My metaphorical shoulders, that is. No weight would drag these babies down, _Sam thought.

"So what did you do? Tell Karofsky?"

"No! I did- well, I did worse. To me, at least."

"Worse? What did you _do_?"

Sam hesitated. He gulped, wringing his hands together, before crying out, "I told Kurt I was dating you."

"So? You were. And you still can be, by the way. Just because you came clean to me doesn't mean we have to stop dating. I can be your beard until you're ready to come out to the school."

"I don't know about that. I just want to stop being such a damn coward and tell Kurt the truth."

"Well, what did you say?"

"We were on the couch, laughing, and there was a lot of sexual tension."

"And you could tell this how?"

"Trust me. There was. Anyway, we both sensed this, and we leaned in to kiss-"

"You guys _kissed_? You didn't tell me _that_ part!"

"No, that's the thing. We didn't. We were about to, when Finn walked in."

"Oh. Yeah, Finn's a natural cockblock. He's so oblivious, he probably didn't even know what he was interrupting. Go on."

"Yeah, he didn't. I got all nervous, though, and I stammered something about going to see you. But I accidently said girlfriend. Which probably sounded like I was leading him on or something."

"Ouch. That's not good. It definitely does. All you can hope for is that he is calmed down by Monday. Then you can explain yourself to him."

Sam smiled softly. "Thanks, Quinn. I'm glad you still want to be my friend."

Quinn looked perplexed. "Why wouldn't I be friends with you?"

"I thought you wouldn't want to after I lied to you like that..." Sam answered, looking away sheepishly.

"You thought that? What, do you not even know me? I would never do that. Sure, I would have been mad at first. But I would never desert you. Ever."

The two blonds smiled at each other. Everything was good between them now. Quinn stood, beckoning for Sam to follow.

"Come on, Blondie. Let's go make plans to woo your man."

Sam grinned back at her, and the two them ran off to do just that.

Little did they know that they were already too late.


	6. Chapter 6: Isn't It Rich?

A/N: Wow, this was fast. Surprised I updated so quickly. Enjoy. Once more, reviews and alerts are love.

**Chapter 6: Isn't It Rich?**

Sam Evans had a mission. He was going to tell Kurt the truth. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help him Eywa. He had screwed up, but he was ready to rectify his mistake. He was going to march right up to Kurt, and tell him how he felt. Tell him of the desire to just jump on him every time he sees him; to kiss him. How his fair skin glistens in the sunlight. How- okay, that was enough. He didn't want to be embarrassed, walking around 'excited'. He had to tell Kurt, and that was that. No going back. Here goes nothing. Sam walked forward, taking a deep breath. It was that time of the day, the time when all clubs meet after school. He walked into the choir room, looking around at the familiar faces surrounding him. Quinn, who was sitting with Mercedes, gave him an encouraging nod and smile. Kurt was turned, arguing with Rachel.

"I don't understand why not, Kurt-"

"Because not everyone in this club has the vocal range of Mariah Carey, Rachel, and-"

"But what about Beyonce? I'm sure-"

"No, I'm sure Finn cannot sing Beyonce. Beside, who else would want to?"

Rachel paused for a moment. He had a good point. "Fine, I guess we can compromise. How about a Gaga number?"

Kurt grinned. "I thought you would never ask."

Sam approached Kurt anxiously, laughing slightly as he asked, "Hey. What was that about?"

Kurt immediately tensed, becoming silent. Solemn, he turned to look at Sam. Sam took a step back in shock. He had not expected the mix of pure hatred and pain in Kurt's eyes.

"That was myself arguing with Rachel over what number to do for Friday's assembly. What do you want?"

Sam thought to himself for a moment. He hadn't thought Kurt would still be mad. He would have to tread lightly. "Could I talk to you for a moment? Outside?"

Kurt nodded, reserved. He stood up and follow Sam outside the choir room. His tone turned aggressive the moment they were out of earshot from the rest of the club.

"What do you want?"

"Look. I wanted to apologize about Saturday. I wanted to explain."

"You have nothing to explain. I appreciate your apology, but-"

"Listen, I have something to tell you. Kurt, I'm g-"

"I have something to tell you as well, Samuel Evans. I am not going to dissolve our partnership this time, as I am not that cruel and I do believe that we work well together. I will, however, not be your friend. I deserve better than to be duped by your selfish, arrogant ways. We will not have sleepovers, or get togethers, or see each other for any reason besides rehearsing for the audition. Understood?"

Sam felt defeated. Somehow, Kurt had made up his mind over the weekend. He had obviously been deeply hurt, and had resolved to protect his own interests. Sam had to do something, and fast.

"Listen, Kurt. I realize that you are hurt. But I would really like for you to reconsider. Please. I already consider you a good friend. You have no idea how much you mean to me," Sam pleaded with the smaller boy.

Kurt looked up at Sam, tears brewing in his eyes. He sniffed and looked away for a moment.

"I want you to know that you hurt me. Deeply. I'm not sure if you even realize what you have done, but I am done with you, Sam Evans. And if you really care for me as much as you say you do, you'll respect my decision. Now, if you will excuse me."

Kurt turned, and, wiping his eyes dry, made his way back into the room. Sam returned to his chair beside Quinn, and began to whisper to her.

"What happened?"

"It's awful. He hates me."

"Don't say that. I'm sure he doesn't hate you."

"Yes he does. I really screwed up, Q. Big time."

The conversation continued in hushed voices for a moment, until the relative silence of the room was pierced by the higher pitches of a certain counter-tenor's voice.

"Mr. Shue?"

"Yes, Kurt?"

"Could I sing something? I prepared it, and I kind of want to sing it."

"Sure. Come on up."

Kurt strode to the front of the room, before turning to look at the rest of the group. His eyes drifted across the row of people, before resting on Sam. The heartache in his voice was painfully clear. He spoke in a hushed tone, straight from his emotions. He cleared his throat before addressing the group.

"I had a rough weekend. I had my heart broken; stomped on and ripped in two. I was shattered, and had lost my way. I was blessed with an angel in return. Someone who came to me in my time of need. He showed me that I only have to please myself. And so I prepared a little something. I think the point of the song will be evident."

Kurt pulled a stool over, and sat down. He looked defeated. Utterly defeated and emotionally drained.

"_Isn't it rich?_

_Aren't we a pair?_

_Me here at last on the ground,_

_You in mid-air. _

_Send in the clowns."_

Sam started to tear immediately. Kurt was solemn. His eyes were wet with grief, but he pushed past that with a new determination. A determination to move on. And it was killing Sam.

"_Isn't it bliss?_

_Don't you approve?_

_One who keeps tearing around,_

_One who can't move. _

_Where are the clowns?_

_Send in the clowns."_

Kurt sat on the stool, opening his heart to the group. This was not Le Jazz Hot. This was not a performance. This was art. Pure and simple. Kurt was baring his soul to the world. He was lying himself open.

"_Just when I'd stopped_

_Opening doors,_

_Finally knowing _

_The one that I wanted_

_Was yours. _

_Making my entrance again_

_With my usual flair,_

_Sure of my lines,_

_No one was there."_

It was this section of the song that struck Sam the most. He was too late. Kurt had found this mysterious angel, who had cured him of his problems. He was probably going to go live in some fairy castle with Prince Charming. What hurt most was what was implied. _Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours_. He wanted Sam. He had chosen Sam. And Sam had betrayed him. No wonder he had been so cold earlier.

"_Don't you love farce?_

_My fault, I fear. _

_I thought that you'd want what I want-_

_Sorry, my dear. _

_But where are the clowns?_

_Quick, send in the clowns._

_Don't bother- they're here."_

It was here that Kurt's voice broke. Although he had been wavering the entire song, threatening to break into tears, it was something about the farce line that triggered Kurt to lose control of his emotions. Tears streaming down his face, the boy continued with a shaky, gasp-ridden voice.

"_Isn't it rich?_

_Isn't it queer?_

_Losing my timing this late_

_In my career?_

_And where are the clowns?_

_There ought to be clowns._

_Ah well, maybe next year."_

Kurt finished the song, attempting to contain himself. As the hushed applause filled the room, Sam was in a trance. He stared at Kurt, unabashedly. He was ashamed. It was one thing to make a mistake. It was another thing entirely to hurt the boy, as he obviously had. Maybe Kurt was better off with whomever he had found. Maybe it would heal him of the heartbreak. It might be good for him. Probably better than Sam would ever be.

Sam wiped his eyes, the tears freely flowing now. The two boys looked at each other, a look of grief in both of their eyes. Kurt looked away, embarrassed. Sam excused himself for the restroom, walking towards the door. He froze. A young man stood in the doorway, smiling smugly. He was watching the proceedings. Sam swore he knew that face. He didn't want to know it. He tried to deny it to himself as he walked to the door. But he knew that face, alright. And it knew him. The boy's eyebrows raised in recognition, and he turned, smiling mischievously. Sam watched as he maneuvered down the hall, wearing a blue uniform with red trimming. Sam was not positive, but he was pretty sure he had recognized the boy. It was his ex-boyfriend, Blaine. From his old school. The reason he had moved to Lima in the first place. Curious, Sam moved to follow, but was distracted by his bladder and the looks he was getting from other students concerning the wet streaks across his face. He hurried to the bathroom, completely forgetting that he had seen Blaine.


	7. Chapter 7: Oh, That Was Many Years Ago

_A/N: To celebrate the snow, I am updating! This chapter is the backstory of Sam and Blaine. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 7: Oh, That Was Many Years Ago**

Blaine stood, gazing into McKinley's choir room. He smirked, proud of himself. Kurt had listened to him, alright. The naive little boy had fallen for his trap. Of course, Blaine hadn't been thinking about revenge when he had sat down across from the crying brown-haired boy. He had been in a small coffee shop that he went often when he came home to visit his parents. He had seen the small boy sobbing at a table in the corner, and pity overwhelmed his heart. And whenever Blaine saw someone less fortunate than himself, his tender heart tended to bleed. And Kurt was definitely in need of help. And so, Blaine, the kind soul that he was, sat down across from the boy, and, before introducing himself, asked Kurt what was wrong. The boy had immediately opened up to Blaine, pouring his heart and soul out to the complete stranger. As Blaine heard more of the story, he made a connection to something that had happened in his past. One of the reasons that he had switched schools, and had come to Dalton.

Kurt had gone on, describing a certain blond jock by the name of Sam Evans. Minus the blond part, as Sam's had been dark brown when Blaine last saw him, the Sam Evans that Kurt had described matched exactly to the Sam Evans from Blaine's past. In that instant, Blaine's mind clicked. Here was his chance for revenge. Here was his chance to ruin Sam's life, just as he had ruined Blaine's. Blaine still recalled the last time he had seen Sam; the muscular body of the jock had been blurred by the tears streaming down Blaine's face. Blaine had been left in a heap, to cry and lament his misgivings. What he did not see, as his tears had blurred his vision, was the matching tears that were lining Sam's eyes. As Blaine sank to the ground, watching the figure of his former lover disappear for good, Blaine swore vengeance. And now he would have it.

Blaine set to work immediately. Kurt was innocent enough that he was easy to manipulate. All Blaine had to do was throw out a few horror stories about past experiences in love life, and Kurt was eating out of the palm of his hand. It intrigued him. Here was a boy who had had his heart stomped on, and he was trusting a complete and total stranger to give him advice. How bizarre was the human mind.

Blaine had told Kurt of Sam's type; the kind who flirts with you, going back to their girlfriend when they want action. The kind of boy who doesn't really care about you, who stomps and rips your heart to shreds before they are done with you. What Blaine did not realize, however, was that he had let his bitter feelings towards Sam taint the situation. His bitter outlook on love seeped to the surface, possibly scarring Kurt for life. But Blaine no longer cared. This was no longer about helping a soul in need. It was about sweet revenge. Pure and simple revenge. He had told Kurt exactly what to say. When Sam would confront Kurt, as he was sure he would, Blaine instructed Kurt to never forgive him. Let him live with the consequences of his words. What did Blaine care?

When Sam begged for forgiveness, Kurt was forbidden to let him continue. He was to show no mercy towards the blond jock. Mercy was a sign of the weak. It was a sign that you were prey for the wolves. Kurt would not be an injured doe among wolves. He would not continue the mistakes that Blaine had made. He would rectify them.

Kurt was to honestly tell him how much what Sam had done to hurt him. Honesty was possibly the most painful tool. Especially when used against someone with good intentions. Blaine knew from experience. No one liked to have their flaws flaunted before them. It stung worse than the actual doing of said flaws.

Kurt, being an ever dramatic person, had wanted to sing to get his feelings across. No matter. The two had chosen a song which fit the situation to the tee. In fact, Blaine was unsure who fit the song better: Sam, himself, or Kurt. He felt that every moment the song progressed, he was punishing Sam for his earlier transgressions. The earlier heartbreak that he had caused.

Kurt had thanked him for all of his help, and had left. But Blaine was no longer paying any attention. He was absorbed in his plot to destroy Sam Evans completely. In order to repay Sam, Blaine had to take what he wanted. And what Sam wanted, obviously, was Kurt. Very well. That would be easy. Blaine would help Kurt recover from the heartache he had suffered. And Kurt would come to trust him. Love him, even. And all the hard work would pay off through the grief evident on Sam's face. It would all be worth it.

Blaine had skipped last period on Monday, instead opting to go to McKinley to ensure that nothing went astray. Kurt acted perfectly. Blaine had been worried for a moment, actually. Sam had seemed close to professing his orientation. He had actually started the first syllable. Blaine would have to be careful. He would have to keep Kurt away from Sam. That would make his victory sweeter.

Kurt continued, according to plan. He opened himself up to Sam, and strode back into the room. Blaine moved towards the door as he heard Kurt's voice soaring to the melody of the Sondheim piece. It truly was the perfect musical selection. Tailored to the situation. Blaine was proud of himself.

The song ended. Kurt was crying, wet spots gleaming on his cheeks. Blaine had been distracted for a moment, before realizing that Sam was heading his way. He panicked. He raised his eyebrows in recognition of the other boy, and then, smiling smugly, he turned and fled. He had won the battle. And he would win the war. Kurt Hummel was almost his. And then he would use his prize to utterly destroy Sam Evans.

...

Sam remembered when he had first met Blaine. It was at his old school. His junior high school. He was in English, he remembered. It was around a year before he would have been officially diagnosed with dyslexia. He was failing the course. No one understood why. The numbers and letters just got so jumbled up to him. He didn't understand it, either. He wasn't sure if he wanted to understand it, to be honest with you. And so there he was, walking into English. That's when he first saw him. Blaine Anderson. He was a transfer student. He was new, had been in the school for about a week. He was handsome. Incredibly handsome. This was back before Sam had accepted himself as who he was. Sam could never understand why he just didn't like girls. Where as other boys in his grade would fantasize about girls, talk about girls during sleepovers, talk about kissing girls, and wanting to kiss girls, Sam just-didn't. It wasn't that he didn't like anyone. He had tried to force himself to like someone-anyone. He listened to his friends. Picked up on who they said was 'hot.' Yet, Sam still did not understand the attraction. He just didn't like girls. Boys, however, were a different story.

At first he thought it was normal to think of other boys in that way. He would always think about kissing his various friends. When he was in baseball practice, he would always sneak peeks at their butts. He thought they were cute. He loved the way they were shaped, so taught. They were athletic, toned even. Whenever he would shower after sports practice, Sam would have to shower after the other boys, or walk home. Everyone else had assumed it was because he was shy about his body. The real reason was he didn't want them to know that he got hard watching everyone else in the shower.

It was around the time that Sam had moved from elementary school into junior high that Sam had realized that liking guys was not considered 'normal.' There was this other kid, who Sam was kind of friends with. He was smart, and kind of cute, in a little-brother-type way. Sam remembered inviting him over a few times to watch Star Wars together. Anyway, Sam had been in gym class when he started hearing the rumors.

"_Did you hear? Billy likes boys. Billy's gay."_

"_Really? Wow."_

It went on like that for weeks. Billy would start going home early, having to change his clothes. Sam would try to invite him over to watch Star Wars, but his mother always said he was busy. After five weeks, Sam had finally decided to look up what gay meant. To understand what was happening to Billy.

Sam looked it up on his computer. He thought it was a type of disease, at first. He thought Billy must be really sick if he could never play, could never come over Sam's house. Sam was wrong, however. Being gay did not mean you were sick. It meant something different. It meant you liked boys.

Did that mean Sam was gay? He had never liked girls. Sam had always assumed that the feeling would come later on. Maybe he was just a late bloomer. Maybe not. And he had always assumed that everyone liked boys, as well. It was only natural, right?

Eventually, Sam came to terms with what it meant to be gay. It meant being different. It meant that people were mean to you, just because you liked someone different. Just because you didn't fit their definition of 'normal.' But Sam was okay with that. He was okay with being different. At least, he thought he was.

That was when Sam met Blaine. Blaine was nice to him. Blaine liked the same things that he liked. Okay, maybe Blaine didn't always like Star Wars. Maybe he liked watching Singin' in the Rain a little too much. But that was okay. Sam had a new friend, one who was nice to him. And one who was gay too.

A month passed by, and Blaine told him. It just kind of came up in a conversation. They were watching a movie, and Sam had asked what kind of girls he liked. Blaine got strangely quiet, and seemed to whisper his answer:

"_I don't like any of the girls. I like the boys. I'm gay, Sam. I'm gay."_

Those four sentences changed Sam's life. Finally, he had someone who he could relate to. Finally, he had someone like himself. Someone who could like him back. The issue was, Blaine liked him back a little too much.

Sam had been very enthusiastic at first. He had plunged into his relationship with Blaine full on. He had been so excited to finally have a boyfriend. He loved Blaine, he truly did. They did everything together. They went shopping, saw movies, went to the mall, et cetera, et cetera. This euphoric bliss lasted for about a month. Then Sam saw the cracks.

It was around October in his eighth grade year. Sam started to notice little things about Blaine, things he had never noticed before. The way he sat, clinging to Sam's side, pulling him closer. The look of envy he had in his eyes whenever Sam would talk to one of his other friends. The look of pure annoyance whenever Sam mentioned Star Wars. They had nothing in common. And Sam was being to realize that he had rushed into things too soon.

Blaine began to show signs of wear. He no longer was as courteous; he would snap at Sam, and be very moody at different times. Sam no longer understood it. All he knew was that it repulsed him. Blaine had changed. No longer was he the Blaine that Sam had fallen in love with. All of Blaine's worst qualities had come out. The reality was, Blaine was an extremely jealous person. And he clung to those he was afraid of losing. He clung to Sam, not wanting to let go.

No matter how many times Sam tried to break it off with Blaine, the boy would not listen. He was blind to the facts. What Sam saw as fundamental issues in the relationship, Blaine saw as obstacles to get over. What Sam saw as them having nothing in common, Blaine saw as an opportunity to educate one another on each other's interests.

Soon he turned to pleading. He begged Sam not to leave him. But Sam had already left him. Once Blaine had showed signs of his mental state deteriorating, Sam was gone from the relationship.

And so Blaine did the only thing he thought that he could do. He told the rest of the school about their previous relationship. He thought it would convince Sam to return to him. Or that it might be punishment enough for leaving him in the first place. It did worse. Blaine had no idea the effect the announcement would have on his own life, as well.

Sam was luckier than Blaine, in some ways. He was on the football team, as the quarterback. He was popular; all the girls wanted him, all the guys wanted to be him. All that was shattered when the school found out he was gay. He was beaten everyday. Left outside near the dumpster, bleeding and covered in bruises. He eventually had to quit the football team, as his fellow teammates did not want to shower with him anymore. He had become the laughing stock of the school. It was worse for Blaine. Much worse.

Blaine did not have the protection of popularity that Sam had. He was already unpopular; the fact that he was now openly gay did not help. He was treated worse than Sam was. By the end of ninth grade, both boys had opted to leave the school. Blaine was going to a fancy private school by the name of Dalton; Sam had to move to escape his tormentors. Sam never forgave Blaine for what he had done. Blaine had ruined Sam's old life, and Sam was determined to never let that happen again. He dyed his hair, and prepared to climb his way up the ladder of popularity, until he reached the top. If he was popular, he would never be touched again.

Blaine, however, remembered the events differently. He blamed Sam for everything. His whole life had crumbled around him, and he had had no one to pick up the pieces. Blaine attempted to forget, but he was unable to do so. The memories remained in his head, haunting him. Until now. Now Blaine saw a way to do to Sam what Sam had done to him two years ago. He was going to make Sam's life a living hell.

_A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! Next chapter should be up soon. BTW, I just found you reply to reviews on here! Didn't know that before. Will go through and reply to all of the reviews. I really appreciate all the reviews. Keep 'em kumming!_


	8. Chapter 8: Look At Me

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long! I don't know, I guess I had writers block for a while. But I'm back now! Enjoy. Chapter 9 should definitely take less time.

**Chapter 8: Look At Me**

"This isn't working."

Kurt sighed, frustrated at the current situation. They had been rehearsing for hours. Although Kurt did not want to spend time with Sam, he felt that he had to continue on his part of the audition. Something just wasn't working. Kurt had no idea what it was- the chemistry that they had had previously had all but vanished. Kurt was still incredibly reserved; although he was now dating Blaine, he still wished to protect his own heart. If that meant being aloof towards Sam, then so be it.

"And what exactly isn't working, Samuel?" Kurt had ceased referring to Sam by his shortened name, using only pronouns or his full name to address the jock.

"Us. We're not working."

"What exactly do you mean by 'us?'" Kurt turned, staring at Sam coldly.

"Us. Our chemistry. In this scene. Together."

"What about it?"

"It's not clicking. We need to try something different."

"Fine. You don't want to work with me, go ahead. Make sure you shut the door when you leave the house."

"No, I do want to work with you. You're the one making things difficult!"

"And how is that, exactly?"

"By not letting me explain myself!"

"You deserve no pity, nor any explanation. I received all the explanation I needed that morning. Go to your girlfriend, if you want pity."

Sam sighed. It was so frustrating. Kurt wouldn't let anything happen. He was so uptight about the whole situation, about what had happened that fateful morning, that he refused to let anyone in. Sam had been trying. Kurt wouldn't let him. It sucked. Finally, Sam stood.

"Going somewhere?"

"Yes, actually. I'm really aggravated. I'll be back. I need to get some fresh air."

As Sam left the room, he glanced back to see for a brief moment a pained expression on Kurt's face, which quickly hardened once Kurt realized Sam was watching him. Sam shook his head in sadness before leaving. Once Sam had left the room, Kurt reached up to wipe the tears brimming in his eyes.

...

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Do you mind if I sit?"

"Sure, why not?"

Sam lowered himself onto the bed, beside Quinn Fabray. It was funny. As much as his friendship with Kurt had deteriorated, Sam had bonded with Quinn in ways he would have never dreamed possible. Now that his secret had been lifted, Sam was free to be himself around the blonde beauty. They would have sleepovers where the two best friends would stay up for hours, talking about boy trouble; in Sam's case, Kurt; in Quinn's case, Puck. Quinn, although she had regained most of her old life this year, still felt something for her baby daddy. Sam had tried repeatedly to tell her to try to win Puck back, but she wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. Although her heart longed for the mohawkhd youth, her head told her to wait until he came to her. Puck was still a womanizer; them being together would change nothing. Quinn had to wait to see whether he would reform; that would be the key.

"So what happened?"

"I give up. That's what happened."

"Woah- what do you mean, 'give up?' You don't mean stopping the partnership, do you?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I mean."

Quinn was up in arms within an instant. "What? Why the hell would you do that?"

"It's not working, Q." Sam began to tear, the stress getting to him, coming out in his voice. His once strong, proud demeanor broke, revealing a small, terrified child. "I- I don't know what to do anymore. He won't let me through. I've literally tried everything. I've tried every way I know how to, attempting to get through to him. It's just not working. He's as distant as he ever was. It's killing me, Q. It's like he hates my breathing guts. I never thought it would come to this. God, I'm so stupid!"

Sam lashed out, slamming his fist on the bed before dropping to the ground, tears trickling down his cheeks.

"I-I- I can't do it. I can't live like this, knowing that he'll never forgive me. It's too hard. I'm going to call the audition off on Monday. I could never play his Sweeney. I'm not good enough for him."

"Then why did you come here? Just to mope?"

"Yeah... kind of."

"Then go."

Sam looked at Quinn. He sat for a moment, his mouth a gape.

"What?"

"You heard me. Go. Leave. Get out of here."

"But- why?"

"If you only came here to moan about how you're not strong enough to force Kurt to listen to you, then you should go. I'm not going to give you pity. I will, however, help you, if you decide to grow a pair."

"What do you mean, force? I'm not gonna hurt him! What are you, mad?"

"God! Why are boys so stupid sometimes? I didn't mean it like that, smart one. I mean, if he won't listen to you, make him. Just explain to him how important it is to you. He'll listen."

"But what if he still doesn't?"

"Keep trying. All you can ever do is try."

Sam nodded slowly, and then rose. He turned to Quinn.

"Thanks. I-"

Sam didn't finish his thought before he pulled Quinn into a tight embrace.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

Quinn chuckled. "So I've heard. Now go get your man."

Sam nodded. It was game time.

"Okay."

...

"Kurt freaking Hummel, you wait just a minute!"

Kurt turned to find Mercedes barreling down the hall after him. Kurt sighed. He was already in a bad mood this morning. It was a Monday, which made the day bad from the start. Kurt had woken up late this morning, as his alarm had never gotten him up. He had to cut thirty minutes from his morning skin care routine, and he had scarfed down a banana and a bagel with a glass of milk before heading out the door. Because he was late to school, he didn't end up getting into the parking lot until after all of the jocks had gotten to school. He had been greeted with a dumpster dive and a round of slushie facials by the time he had gotten to first period. He had been given a second round of slushies by thrid period, and had had to call his dad to drive over a new set of clothes. Then at lunch, Kurt missed his favorite lunch, macaroni and cheese, to make up a pop quiz he had missed from the morning. He had arrived at the lunch room to find all of the tables filled with Titans and Cheerios. Kurt reluctantly had slunk off to sit by himself, against the wall. To put it bluntly, Kurt's day sucked so far.

"Yes, 'Cedes? I'm already late to 6th period, I don't want to-"

"Hush up, white boy. I just heard from Quinn that you haven't been speaking to Sam."

"Look, 'Cedes, I would love to get into my atrocious relationship with Sam, but I really have to go right now-"

"No, you don't. You're staying right here, Kurt, until you explain yourself."

Kurt sighed, irritated. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"What I would like to know, white boy, is why you haven't let Sam apologize?"

"Um, do you forget what he did to me? 'Cedes, it's a long way out before I let him be friends with me, let alone near me-"

"What exactly did he do to you?"

"Mercedes, you and I both know exactly what he-"

"I don't mean it like that, and you know it! Just listen for a moment, will you?"

Kurt nodded, silencing. He waited. Mercedes sighed, shaking her head. It was time to get through to Kurt, once and for all. This had been going on for weeks, and it had to end. Mercedes took a deep breath before continuing.

"Listen, Kurt. I know he hurt you and all, but don't you think you're overreacting just a bit? I mean, what did he say? He said he had to see his girlfriend. And this was right after he was about half an inch from puckering up and getting his mac on with you. He obviously never expressed his feelings about- well, men- to anyone before, and slipped up. And guess what? If he's not gay, and didn't like you, so then what? You go on hating him for the rest of high school because you can't date him? Sweetie, the world don't work like that!"

"I know, 'Cedes. It's really hard though. I just- I don't know if I can forgive him just yet."

"But he wants to make it up to you! Kurt, Quinn told me that he's been crying to her for days about how you won't listen to his apology. He's getting really desperate. It's not right. You should listen to him."

"But Blaine said-"

"But Blaine said? Kurt Hummel, I really hope I didn't hear what I thought I just heard. Who cares what Blaine said, or thinks? I am your best friend. I have been and always will be your best friend. Quinn is one of your really good friends, Kurt. I know that we all haven't hung out as much since she rejoined Cheerios and you started dating Blaine, but you should listen to her. Sam is really, really sorry. He deserves to have someone listen to him. Please, Kurt? Just listen to him."

Kurt slowly nodded. "Okay, 'Cedes. I'll do it. I'll go talk to him." Kurt then smiled at his best friend. "Thanks, 'Cedes. For everything."

Mercedes smiled back. "What are friends for?"

...

"Hey, Kurt. Could I talk to you for a moment? I know you're not really listening to me, but I would really like to-"

"Sure Sam. I'm ready to listen to you."

"-Because it would mean a lot to me- you are?"

Kurt nodded. They were seated on the far wall in the choir room, the club not starting for another 15 minutes. Kurt liked to come here to think after a rough day. And today was rough. Incredibly rough.

Sam blinked. _He said yes? _Sam froze for a moment before breaking into a wide grin. _He said yes! _Sam was happy that he could finally talk to Kurt; it had been weeks since the sleepover they had shared, and the fiasco that happened that morning. It was his chance to make everything right again; Sam vowed not to screw it up.

"Okay. First off, I really wanted to thank you for letting me speak, and for, well, listening to me. I know it's easy to just ignore someone and hold grudges, so I thank you for opening up to me." _Finally, after shutting me out for weeks_, Sam thought bitterly. "Anyway. I wanted to apologize for what I said, and how I kind of led you on. I really didn't mean to do that. I swear. I like you, Kurt. More than you realize. I'm not going to get into that, because I know you're seeing someone right now, even though you won't tell me who it is. And I don't want to screw that up for you. You're really happy with him, Kurt. Whomever he is. I would never be able to forgive myself if I did anything to that."

Kurt smiled. It was true, he hadn't told Sam who he was dating, only that he was indeed seeing someone. He felt kind of guilty about it, but wouldn't tell him. He couldn't find it in his heart. Not yet, at least. It meant a lot to him, however, to hear that Sam was willing to give him space and respect his decisions. That had to count for something, right?

"I'm not going to condone my behavior that morning and the previous night. What I did was wrong. I guess I was so happy to be friends with you, that I kind of pushed my actions. I freaked out when Finn walked in, and said the wrong thing. No matter how many times I apologize, it's not going to make what I did right. I hurt you, and that is what hurts me the most. I care about you, Kurt. I lost my chance, and I'm okay with that. What I'm not okay with, however, is throwing away our chances at these roles. You're really talented, Kurt. But we need to do this together. Right now, our chemistry when rehearsing is zero. If we are going to nail this audition, we need to forget the past and move towards the future. Deal?"

Kurt looked ahead intently for a moment. He then nodded, slowly breaking into a smile.

"Deal."


	9. Chapter 9A: And The Winner Is

A/N: Okay, so this is chapter 9A. Chapter 9 as a whole is really long, and I'm not done it. I got to a nice breaking point, though, so I'm posting this much of it. Enjoy!

**Chapter 9: And The Winner Is...**

_Well. Today's the day._ Sam stared at himself closely in the mirror, fixing his hair. He wanted to look perfect. Today was the audition. Sam was happy to be able to say that working with Kurt over the past few weeks had been bliss. With the majority of their issues resolved, Kurt and Sam made up for the lost time, working incredibly hard to prepare for the audition. They rehearsed everyday after school, growing incredibly close to each other as the audition date began to grow closer and closer. They were inseparable now; the two, as well as Mercedes and some of the other glee kids, sat with each other during every lunch, as well as during classes. They were repeatedly caught passing notes, and would giggle about the most uninterpretable things. They would be texting constantly, and when they weren't together, Sam would be found talking to Quinn about Kurt, while Kurt was off giggling with Mercedes about Sam. The only issue of tension revolved around Blaine. Sam had still not made the connection between his ex-boyfriend and the boy who had stolen Kurt's heart. Kurt was none the wiser in regards to the same situation. The two generally refused to mention "The Incident," as they had dubbed it. "The Incident" was far too personal for either of them to really talk about it, so they skipped over it. Aside from that little issue, they had truly become best friends, in all sense of the phrase. They were inseparable.

Their number was almost perfect. All the talent and dedication was there; both partners had worked diligently to make up for the lost time. Kurt was a flawless Mrs. Lovett. He was ever the character actor, constantly shaping and reshaping his performance in the song. He had a refined style which matched his drive and talent; he was Kurt Hummel. He was the most amazing person Sam had ever known.

Sam had improved greatly. His Sweeney became refined, calculating even. It had been a steady improvement from the somewhat shaky performance Sam had exhibited earlier on in the preparation process. Somewhere between the moment the two continued their partnership and the audition day, Sam became the character. He was no longer Sam Evans playing Sweeney Todd. He was Sweeney. It was a remarkable thing. He was patient yet showed a deadly venom to his lines, which came out bitterly in the audition song. Sam smiled at the memory of Kurt from the night before, when he had expressed his gratitude and appreciation. Kurt had told him how proud he was of Sam; how his incredibly hard work had paid off in an incredible audition. Sam bubbled at the praise. He was proud of himself, but hearing Kurt praise him made the work worth the effort.

Well, it was time to go. Sam tilted his head one more time before turning to his bed. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, letting the towel clinging to his musculature fall to the floor. Sam examined himself in his bedroom mirror, noting his lean shape. He turned slightly, taking in his backside. Satisfied, Sam began to slip his briefs on, before getting dressed for the day. This is it. Time to kick ass.

...

The sun shone through the windshield, glinting off the clear glass. The light twinkled softly as the black Navigator slowly pulled in the parking spot. The car hummed slightly for a moment before the engine ceased it's silent rumble, and the front door to the car slowly opened. From the confines of the car stepped the young boy, hair perfectly swept off of his face, a permanent expression of superiority on his pale face. Kurt Hummel was dressed for success. He wore his favorite outfit, designer glasses covering his piercing glare. This Kurt was not a victim. Dressed in this way, the confident air oozing from him, Kurt had truly become the HBIC of McKinley High.

He began the long trek from his car to the front doors of McKinley, slowing down as he noticed the Neanderthals gathered around the dumpster. He sighed to himself. Not today. This couldn't be happening today. This was supposed to be his day, his greatest success. He had worked so extremely hard up until this point. He would let nothing take this away from him. Nothing.

Kurt tilted his head upward, and began to walk towards the jocks. He shook his head as he noticed David Karofsky, the seeming head of this particular assault, approaching the brunette. The heavy jock grinned menacingly as he stopped the smaller boy in his tracks.

"What do you want, Karofsky?" Kurt attempted to remain calm, a steady tone permeating his voice.

"Word is your gonna play a girl in the school musical, fairy."

"Actually, I haven't gotten the part yet, Neanderthal. But yes, you will probably see me up on stage as Mrs. Lovett. Now, if you'll excuse me," Kurt attempted to continue moving past the towering boy. He was stopped by the jocks blundering words.

"Hey, faggot. You like wearing dresses, don't you? You like being a girl, don't you?"

"Actually, I love being male. I am, however, in touch with my feminine side. Something your pathetic, inbreed mind must find incredibly convoluted and impossible to understand. Now, please excuse me, I have to get to my loc-"

Kurt suddenly felt the heavy weight of a fist slamming into his stomach. The brunette doubled over in pain as Karofsky roared, calling on the other jocks to join him. The larger boys surrounded Kurt, pulling him to his feet, preparing to ceremoniously lift him high over their heads, to carry him to his place at the bottom of the dumpster. As the jocks raised him in the air, a shout cried out, halting the actions of the jocks.

Standing before the group, stopping their progress to the dumpster, stood the twelve other members of New Directions. The group was lead by Sam, who marched over towards Karofsky, flanked by Finn and Puck.

"Drop him. Now." Sam was pissed. He closed his hand into a fist, threatening the other jock.

"Make me, Evans."

Sam smiled menacingly before kneeing Karofsky in the stomach. The larger jock grunted, dropping Kurt. The contralto screamed in fright as he fell, before landing in Sam's outstretched arms. He, unconsciously, snuggled into the warmth of Sam's embrace, tearing slightly. The other guys of New Directions moved to hold off the infuriated Neanderthals, while Sam brought Kurt over to the girls, who flocked to their favorite diva. Quinn and Mercedes moved to help Kurt, while Santana ran towards the jocks with cries of, "I'll castrate them, I swear I will!"

Sam gently laid Kurt down, leaning down to brush his bangs from his face. He smiled at the brunette, who smiled back at him.

"You okay?"

Kurt smiled at the blond jock. "You saved me."

Sam grinned back sheepishly. "It was no big deal. Can you stand?"

Kurt nodded, slowly standing with the help of Quinn and Mercedes. He grinned once more at Sam before making his way into McKinley. Sam grinned before turning back to he jocks behind him. The others had apparently fled, leaving Karofsky on the ground, slowly getting to his knees. Sam shook his head before continuing on.

...

"I wanted to congratulate you."

"Excuse me?"

"I said that I wanted to congratulate you."

"What for?"

"I'm really happy for you."

Kurt turned, completely lost. He glared at the smaller diva before him, wondering what she could possibly be talking about. He had been getting something from his locker before he had been assaulted by Rachel Berry, who was strangely happy for him. For what reason, Kurt had no idea.

"You're happy that I am going to beat you out for Mrs. Lovett?"

Rachel scoffed. "Like that will happen. But if it does, so be it. Finn and I could always use some healthy competition."

"Competition for what? Finn's auditioning for Anthony, not Sweeney."

"It's hard being the 'it' couple all the time, Kurt."

"First off, you and Finn are not the 'it' couple. Second off: what the hell are you talking about?"

"You and Sam. I'm really happy for you Kurt. You finally found your soul mate."

Now Kurt was baffled. "What are you talking about?"

"You and Sam getting together, silly! I admit, I was a little surprised, and slightly hurt that you never told me, but I'm happy."

"Sam and I are not together, Rachel. Have you been taking Vitamin D again?"

"You're not? But I could have sworn-"

"Sam is straight, Rachel. And even if he isn't, I'm with Blaine now."

"Okay then..."

"What was that supposed to mean?"

"Only that Sam is so not straight, that's all."

"He is straight, Rachel. As much as I would like it otherwise, that's not happening."

"He likes you, Kurt."

"We're partners, Rach. Of course he likes me. We've become friends now."

"I just hope you know what you're missing..."

Rachel laughed, skipping away from Kurt. The other diva rolled his eyes, still pondering Rachel's words. Sam couldn't like him. Could he?

As Kurt turned back to his locker, he didn't notice Rachel stop at the end of the hallway, where Quinn stood waiting for her. The blond and brunette stood for a moment, surveying their handiwork before moving on.

...

"Spill, Lady. What's up with you and Lady Lips?"

Kurt sighed, irritated. He whirled to face Santana, who was standing next to him at the sink in the girls' bathroom. The Latina was fixing her makeup when she spotted the male diva enter the girls bathroom, heading into one of the stalls. She cornered him on his way out, while he was washing his hands.

"First off, I'm a guy. If you want ms to prove it, I will. Calling me Lady is rude and homophobic. Call me Porcelain, like Coach Sylvester does."

"Homophobic is a type of dog. Right, San?"

Santana nodded sweetly at the blonde girl standing next to her. Brittany nodded back at the Latina, satisfied.

"Right. I'm just laying things out for what they are. You want to play a girl part. I'm calling you Lady."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. Besides, what about your thing with Britt?"

Santana grew pale and sullen. "That's different."

"In what way?" Kurt smiled cloyingly.

"I don't want to make lady babies with her. I dig me some-"

"San! That hurts. Stop squeezing my arm so hard. San..." Brittany whined. Santana grew red and released Brittany's arm. Kurt smirked at her.

"You were saying?"

"Anyway, that's completely irrelevant, Lady. I was asking you about you and the fake blond Adonis you call your partner."

Kurt blushed furiously at the description of the blond jock. "Nothing's going on. We're just friends."

"You keep telling yourself that."

"Sam is straight, Santana. He's with Quinn."

"Since when? Ken and Barbie have been over and done with for ages now. I thought you were such a gossip. I am shocked."

"But they're always around each other and-"

"So what? Trust me. Quinn is not longing at Sam in any way close to the way she stares at Puck. It's pathetic."

"Sam's still straight, San."

"Um, did you see him this morning? He freaking swept your hair off of your face. Off of your face, Hummel. Plus, no straight guy would walk out of the house with that obvious of a dye job."

Santana zipped her makeup kit and, putting in her purse, turned and swept from the girls bathroom. Brittany followed her, waving goodbye to Kurt. Kurt stood, perplexed. _This day keeps getting weirder and weirder..._

...

The Latina made her way through the crowd, stopping next to the other blonde. The two rivals stood, watching the crowds move onward. The blonde tilted her head, before the Latina responded to the unspoken question.

"He's still hesitant. He thinks Sam is straight. I can't talk sense into him."

The other blonde nodded slowly. "It's fine. We'll get there. Eventually."

"You owe me."

The blonde nodded again. The Latina smirked coldly before asking, "Does Sam know?"

The blonde shook her head. "It's a surprise."

"Well, we've got our work cut out for us. I expect some form of repayment by the end of the week, Q."

Quinn Fabray nodded, before parting ways with Santana. The Latina stared off at the blonde walking away before turning her thoughts to another blonde.


	10. Chapter 9B: And The Winner Is

A/N: Here is the second half of Chapter 9! Enjoy you guys. Remember, I love me some comments. :)

**Chapter 9B: And The Winner Is...**

"This is disgusting," Kurt complained as he watched the grey sludge known as cafeteria food dribble from his spoon back into the bowl he was eating from. He shivered, eying the amorphous puddle on his tray.

"I know something more disgusting," Sam answered back to Kurt's remark as he sat down next to the countertenor. He placed his tray on the table and looked intently at the other boy.

Kurt rolled his eyes before muttering sarcastically, "Pray. Do tell."

Sam stifled his giggling as he answered. "Well, they must be better than _the Worst Pies, in London!"_

Sam laughed, singing out into the busy cafeteria. Kurt rolled his eyes more dramatically than before. "You are humiliating. Do you know that?"

"Yes, but you love me anyway."

"Not for long, if you keep it up."

Sam pouted, his lips looking plumper than ever. "I know you can't resist my sad puppy look," he said as his eyes glazed over in an attempt to sway Kurt. The diva looked straight ahead before laughing once more.

"Fine, I give up. Go ahead. Take me, I'm yours!" Kurt mimed fainting, laughing as he finished the quote from _Forum. _Sam laughed, flicking a bit of popcorn at him. The piece flew through the air, landing in his hair. Kurt froze for a moment before lifting his hand to his hair. Sam looked half terrified, yet was holding back from giggling.

"This is war, Samuel Evans. Be prepared to be conquered," Kurt grinned mischievously as he continued to eat, flicking the popcorn from his hair.

"Wait- what are you doing?"

Kurt smiled knowingly. "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

"But I-"

"Move on over, white boy," Mercedes said as she sat down next to Kurt, forcing him to move down. Sam looked up, relieved to see the rest of New Directions coming over to join them. He moved over for Rachel, still eyeing Kurt about what he could possible be up to. He noticed, however, Kurt was no longer looking at him, but at Rachel. He seemed puzzled about something. Intrigued. _Interesting. _

"So, who here is excited about today's audition?" Rachel looked around, eager to start a conversation on her favorite topic. Sam nodded, chewing on his burger.

"I'm actually really excited. Well, nervous. But still excited. I just hope everything goes well."

Rachel smiled encouragingly at Sam. "You're auditioning for Sweeney, right? And Kurt for Lovett?"

As Sam nodded, Santana snorted. Sam looked at her confused. Kurt buried his head, already seemingly aware of what was coming.

"You're auditioning for opposite roles as well? Wow, I was right." The Latina laughed once more, before motioning for Brittany to follow her. The two girls left together, pinkies locked in a link as always. Sam was puzzled by the Latina's sudden outburst. He looked over at Kurt, who was staring at the two Cheerios retreating from the lunch area. He had a perplexed look on his face. Sam pulled out his phone, sending a quick message to Kurt. He read it over once, checking for spelling issues. He had to proof read his texts because of his dyslexia. It didn't really help, but it made him feel better that he took the time to do it. He pressed send, waiting for a response.

_Ding! _Kurt looked down at his phone. He had a new text from Sam. Kurt eyed the blond oddly; they were sitting right across from each other. He waited for the phone to unlock before smiling at the words before him. _Aer you okya Kurtie bear? Whast wrng? _

_He spelled my name right. Out of all of the words, he spelled mine correctly. _Kurt felt tears of joy slowly springing up in the corners of his eyes. He wiped his eyes quickly before sending back a text, reassuring Sam that everything was fine. He smiled reassuringly at the blond. Sam smiled back, before turning to Quinn. He said something about having to go to the bathroom, and the two good friends left the table. Rachel murmured something about vocal scales, dragging Finn behind her. Kurt sighed before standing to leave the table with Mercedes.

"So, are you excited at all? You're very quiet. Is everything okay?" Kurt looked at his friend, wondering why she was so quiet.

Mercedes sighed herself, before dumping her empty plate into the trash can. "Yeah, I guess I'm okay."

"Come on, 'Cedes. I can tell something's wrong. What's up?"

"Well, I'm really excited for you and everything. I know you're going to nail that audition, and I'm happy about that."

"There's a but, isn't there." Kurt looked up at her. She nodded wistfully.

"Yeah. I'm nervous about my own audition and stuff. I've never really had a big role before. I want one so badly, I'm just nervous about screwing things up."

Kurt understood perfectly. While he never got stage fright, and probably never would, he could relate to people being afraid of the future. He understood her anxiousness perfectly.

"You'll do fine, 'Cedes. You are super talented, and one of the most amazing singers I know. Mr. Schue would be crazy to deny you a part. Trust me."

The two friends smiled at each other for a moment. "Thanks, Kurt. You truly are a great friend."

"I learn from the best, 'Cedes."

...

"Okay, what the hell is going on?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."

"What was going on back there? Why was everyone acting all weird?"

"Um, maybe because the auditions are today? Maybe because people are nervous? Maybe because we all saved Kurt from a major dumpster dive this morning?"

"But what was Santana referring to? I know something's up, Q."

Quinn rolled her eyes, irritated. Sam had followed her out of the lunch area, before ambushing her about what was going on with Kurt. She was playing innocent. He didn't need to know what she was scheming about in the background. If he would just let her do her thing, everything would be resolved.

"Look, Sam. Everything is fine. I don't know what was going on with Rachel and Santana. Just ignore them."

Sam smiled. Quinn truly was his best friend at McKinley. "Thanks, Q. I'll try to ignore them. I just want everything to be perfect. I-" Sam glanced around him, making sure they were alone. "I'm going to ask him out after the audition."

"You're what?" Quinn looked completely flustered.

"I'm going ask him out. Is that a problem? Sam asked, eyeing her.

"Aside from the fact that he has a boyfriend? No, no problem here at all." Quinn grabbed onto Sam's arm, keeping his attention on her. "You cannot mess this up, Sam."

Sam thought for a moment. He did want to do it, he truly did. He wasn't afraid anymore. He was ready to let Kurt know his true feelings. However, a nagging voice in his mind kept repeating Kurt's final words to him from the fateful duet. _Someone that the world deems more appropriate. _It made Sam pause and think about what he was prepared to do. He was going to risk his friendship with Kurt. He couldn't let that happen.

"Fine. You're right, I shouldn't. I won't, don't worry."

...

Kurt sat at the piano in the choir room, his voice soaring higher and higher. He had an hour before his audition, and figured that his free period would be best spent warming up before the audition.

He wasn't all that nervous. He was Kurt Hummel; he didn't get nervous. He was excited to show the group what he could do. He was tired of being shove into the background, tired of simply swaying behind Rachel. Now was the time to prove his talent to the world. He was ready for this.

He turned his thoughts briefly towards Sam. The blond had seemed fine during lunch, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. He had felt it. His discussions with Rachel and Santana had fueled the fires of his suspicion. Something was up. He just didn't know what.

"Hey. Can we talk for a moment?"

Kurt glanced up towards the door frame. Quinn stood, gripping the side of the door, leaning into the room. Kurt nodded to his friend, patting the seat beside him on the piano bench. The Cheerio made her way over, sinking down beside him.

"So, what's up?" Kurt turned to face Quinn, wondering what this could be about. Quinn took a deep breath, and seemingly pushed out her thoughts, as if they were weighed down on her breast.

"I heard from Santana that you were confused about my status with Sam. Relationship wise, I mean," Quinn added as Kurt looked up to her, confused. Kurt nodded, understanding. He was confused about Quinn and Sam. He had thought they were still dating, but apparently they had been over for months. What was the truth?

"I'm not dating Sam. I haven't dated Sam since the day the two of you agreed to be partners for the audition. I don't want to go into the explanation of that, because it's really none of my business to tell you. I just wanted to tell you- trust your instincts, Kurt. Whatever you feel is right at the moment, go for it. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You matter, Kurt. I say this as your friend, and as a fellow member of New Directions. You are special, Kurt. Incredibly special. Hopefully one day you'll stop second guessing yourself and just go for the things you want."

Quinn stood, walking towards the rows of chairs in the back of the room as the rest of the club filed in. Kurt sat, dazed, thinking about what she had said. He then stood and made his way over, sitting down next to Mercedes. He watched as Sam entered the room and made his way over to the empty seat next to Kurt. He smiled.

Will Schuester stood before the group, writing a numbered list on the board. He turned, looking excited.

"Okay, everyone! I am really excited to see what you guys have to offer here. I know a lot of you have worked extremely hard, and I can't wait to see the results. So, first up: Santana." Will took a seat as the Latina made her way to the front of the room.

"Okay, so I watched the movie and I thought Turpin was totally right. I mean, Lucy was banging. And it's Johnny Depp, he deserved to be carted away. Anyway, let's do this."

Santana cued in Brad, the pianist. He rolled his eyes before beginning the first notes of the introduction. Kurt's eyes widened; he sat up slightly as he recognized the song, glancing around before noticing Rachel's incredibly similar reaction. The Latina grinned before beginning to sing.

"_I shall marry the miller's son,_

_Pin my hat on a nice piece of property._

_Friday nights, for a bit of fun,_

_We'll go dancing._

_Meanwhile..."_

Santana smirked, a devilish look gracing her face. She threw off her jacket, beginning to strut across the room. Kurt cat-called, as the others started laughing.

"_It's a wink and a wiggle and a giggle in the grass_

_And I'll trip the light fandango,_

_A pinch and a diddle in the middle of what passes by._

_It's a very short road_

_From the pinch and the punch_

_To the paunch and the pouch_

_And the pension._

_It's a very short road_

_To the ten thousandth lunch_

_And the belch and the grouch_

_And the sigh._

_In the meanwhile,_

_There are mouths to be kissed_

_Before mouths to be fed,_

_And a lot in between_

_In the meanwhile._

_And a girl ought to celebrate what passes by."_

Santana then grew solemn again, ceasing her extraneous movement. She stood still, singing quietly to the rest of the club.

"_Or I shall marry the businessman,_

_Five fat babies and lots of security._

_Friday nights, if we think we can,_

_We'll go dancing._

_Meanwhile..."_

Once again, the Latina began to smile, once again prancing about the room, this time coming over to the chairs, playing the song up to her small audience.

"_It's a push and a fumble and a tumble in the sheets_

_And I'll foot the highland fancy,_

_A dip in the butter and a flutter with what meets my eye._

_It's a very short fetch_

_From the push and the whoop_

_To the squint and the stoop_

_And the mumble._

_It's not much of a stretch_

_To the cribs and the croup_

_And the bosoms that droop_

_And go dry._

_In the meanwhile,_

_There are mouths to be kissed_

_Before mouths to be fed,_

_And there's many a tryst_

_And there's many a bed_

_To be sampled and seen_

_In the meanwhile._

_And a girl has to celebrate what passes by."_

And, like the previous times, Santana grew solemn. She channeled herself into the quieter, softer part of the song, emotion seeping through.

"_Or I shall marry the Prince of Wales,_

_Pearls and servants and dressing for festivals._

_Friday nights, with him all in tails,_

_We'll have dancing._

_Meanwhile..."_

This time, the refrain was different. She no longer flitted about, but stood in one place, power echoing from her stance. As she belted the last notes of the song, Santana's grin grew until in engulfed the room infectiously.

"_It's a rip in the bustle and a rustle in the hay_

_And I'll pitch the quick fantastic,_

_With flings of confetti and my petticoats away up high._

_It's a very short way_

_From the fling that's for fun_

_To the thigh pressing un-_

_Der the table._

_It's a very short day_

_Till you're stuck with just one_

_Or it has to be done_

_On the sly._

_In the meanwhile,_

_There are mouths to be kissed_

_Before mouths to be fed,_

_And there's many a tryst_

_And there's many a bed,_

_There's a lot I'll have missed_

_But I'll not have been dead_

_When I die!_

_And a person should celebrate everything_

_Passing by._

_And I shall marry the miller's son..."_

Santana let the soft last notes of the song hang in the air, dying out. As the applause began, she glanced over in Brittany's direction before bowing. Will stood, clapping enthusiastically.

"That, my friends, was an audition! Really great job, Santana. You should be proud." Santana smirked at the teacher's words before finding her seat next to the blonde cheerleader, linking pinkies once more.

"Okay, next we have Rachel. Come on up and- yes, Kurt?" Will asked as he noticed Kurt's hand raised politely. Kurt nodded in thanks before speaking.

"Mr. Schuester? I'm not sure what number Sam and I are on your list, but we need a little prep time beforehand. Do you think we could run outside to prepare really quickly?"

As Will nodded, Kurt grabbed Sam's hand, helping him up. The two quickly walked from the room in time to hear Rachel beginning to go on about the difference between Patti Lupone and Angela Lansbury's performances.

"It's a shame- I actually was interested in what she had to say this time," Kurt murmured as the door closed behind him. He turned to face Sam, thoughts swimming through his head. He was dating Blaine. He liked Blaine. Blaine was nice to him. Blaine didn't push him to be anything he wasn't. Blaine was safe, proper. Daper, almost. He was a true Prince Charming. He should be happy with Blaine. Then why wasn't he? Why was he suddenly dreaming about Sam again? Sam, who he had liked before. Sam, who had broken his heart already. Sam, who was his best male friend, who cared for him like no other. Sam would never hurt him. Could never hurt him. Sam was always there for him. He was a great friend, yet why should he trust him? Sam had- oh, enough with the excuses! He liked Sam. That much was clear. However, something else was clear as well- he was with Blaine. It would be wrong to act on any feelings before ending things with Blaine. _Besides, Sam may not even like me_, Kurt thought. _He may just want to be friends. _

He was done with thinking about it. He was dating Blaine now. He liked Blaine. _No matter what happens, I will let nature run its course with Blaine..._

"You okay?" Kurt turned his attention back to Sam once more. The other boy looked somewhat confused.

"Yeah, I'm good. You ready for this?"

Sam nodded slowly. "Ready as ever. How about you? You look a little nervous-"

"I'm Kurt Hummel, I don't get nervous- sorry, didn't mean to... you know. Snap at you like that."

Sam stared at Kurt for a moment. "Kurt, there's something I kind of wanted to ask you-"

"Please, not right now Sam. No distractions."

"But I-"

"No, Sam. No means no."

"I just want to-"

"No!" Kurt stopped, realizing how harsh he had sounded. "Look, it's not that I don't want to listen. I just think we should push everything aside until after our audition. Can you respect that?"

Sam nodded. "Of course I can. Sorry for pushing you, Kurt."

Sam watched as Kurt turned back to the door, looking in to room as Rachel finished Worst Pies. He smiled. Everything will be fine. We just have to work it out together.

"Hey, Kurt?"

Kurt murmured slightly, indicating that he was listening. "Yeah?"

"You're going to be great out there." Kurt turned back to Sam. A smile slowly formed on his lips.

"So are you. Break a leg."

And as Kurt turned back towards the door, Sam made a decision. He leaned forward and turned Kurt back to him. He sighed as their lips pressed together. The two stood, one bending down slightly, their mouths connected. Kurt leaned into Sam, widening the kiss slightly. It seemed to extend towards infinity. Finally, the two released each other. Although Kurt knew he was going to have to figure things out, at this moment, everything was perfect. He smiled up at Sam, feeling the lingering taste of the blond on his lips. Sam grinned back at him.

"You too."


	11. Chapter 10: My Friends

**Chapter 10: My Friends**

"And now, let's hear it for Kurt Hummel and Sam Evans!" Will started the brief round of applause as the two boys entered the room. Kurt led the way, his head held high, eyes sweeping the room. He slowly stepped forward and bowed. The room exploded in applause once more as Kurt returned to his upright stance. He turned to gaze at Sam, a smile coming to his face.

Sam, however, was paying no attention to the rest of the room: he had eyes only for Kurt. He followed Kurt's every movement, taking in this incredible specimen that he had been kissing only moments before. Sam was on Cloud 9. He had never been so happy before in his life. It felt like all of the wrong decisions, all of the bullying and drama with Blaine was gone. Even the "Incident" was gone. All thoughts of any type of struggle were purged from Sam's mind. He had kissed Kurt. And Kurt had kissed him back. It was perfect. They were perfect.

Sam was brought back to reality moments later, as Kurt turned to smile towards him. Sam grinned back at Kurt, and, with confidence, grasped hold of the other boy's hand. Kurt's smile grew, and he squeezed Sam's hand. The two gazed at each other for another moment before facing the group.

"Hi, everyone. As you all know, I'm Kurt Hummel. And this is Sam Evans," Kurt motioned to the blond standing next to him, as Sam was too entranced by Kurt's backside to speak.

"The two of us have spent the past few weeks or so preparing for this audition. We've been through a few hardships, but I know we both are truly excited to show you what we have to offer. Although we're not in costume, because it's up to Mr. Schue to decide how to costume us and we don't want to influence him, I brought a few props with me. I hope you don't mind."

From behind his back, Kurt brought out a bejeweled box, covered in slight dust. The first notes of _My Friends _slowly began, as Kurt swept the dust from the box.

"My, these handles are chased silver, ain't they?" Kurt slowly opened the box, presenting it to Sam. His eyes were glazed over as he slowly reached forward, grasping one of razors, and lifting. Kurt slowly took Sam in his arms, supporting him as he raised the razor in his hands.

"Silver, yes." Sam was entirely focused on the razor now. His head tilted, taking in it's shape and form. The silver glinted in the the light shining from the windows. The room was filled with pure silence. Everyone was fixated on the two standing before them. The melody floated before them, as Sam began to sing, fixated on the razor, Kurt fixated on Sam.

"_These are my friends. _

_See how they glisten._

_See this one shine,_

_How he smiles, in light,_

_My friend! My faithful friend."_

Sam slowly brought the now open razor to the side of his face, leaning his head into it. He sighed, a chilling sigh that shook the members of New Directions to the core. He smiled, grinning as he listened to the razor.

"_Speak to me, friend._

_Whisper..._

_I'll listen. _

_I know, I know,_

_You've been locked _

_Out of sight_

_All these years!_

_Like me, my friend!"_

And now Sam's arm, originally by his ear, is raised before him, his voice ringing out, clearer than it has ever been. He is Sweeney. His lips form a twisted grin, as he glares at the razor intently.

"_But now I'm home!_

_To find you waiting! _

_Home, and we're together._

_And we'll do wonders._

_Won't we?"_

The notes drift out, holding in midair as a devilish grin forms on Sam's features. He then, suddenly and with swift movement, put down the razor in his hand, reaching for the box in Kurt's hands. Kurt obliged, stepping back after placing the box on the piano and nodded towards Sam. The blond jock moved forward swiftly, placing the razor in the box and taking another one, before whirling to face the group once more.

_"You there, my friend."_

As Sam continued his lines, Kurt began to sing, his voice lifting in harmony with Sam's. He stood, silently, gazing at Sam intently.

_"I'm your friend too, Mr. Todd,"_ Kurt sung, the two lines interjecting. He stood in place for the next few moments, heartache and emotion pouring from his eyes.

_"Come let me hold you."_

_"If you knew, Mr. Todd- oh Mr. Todd"_

_"Now, with a sigh, you grow warm, in my hand-"_

_"You're warm, in my hand-"_

_"My friend!"_

Kurt stepped forward, instinctually, grasping Sam's unused hand and hold him from behind, gazing over his shoulder. The two boy's stand, one serenading his razor, the other his long-forgotten love, both pour their souls out for all to see.

_"You've come home!"_

_"My clever friend!"_

_"Always had a fondness for you, I did..."_

Sam stepped forward, breaking the interlocking pose. Kurt sighs, somewhat mournfully, as he once again stares, yearning for the boy before him. Sam pauses, his tone shifting.

_"Rest now, my friends..."_

_"Never you fear, Mr. Todd."_

_"Soon I'll unfold you."_

_"You can move in here, Mr. Todd."_

_"Soon you'll know-"_

_"Mr. Todd, splendors you never have dreamed all your days-"_

_"Splendors you never have dreamed all your days."_

_"Will be yours!"_

_"My lucky friends! _

_Till now, your shine-"_

And at this Sam raises his hand once more, the razor unfurled in his hand. The whole room is silent, fixated on the razor.

_"Don't they shine beautiful?"_

_"Was merely silver. Friends-"_

_"Silver's good enough for me,_

_Mr. T..."_

_"You'll soon drip rubies. _

_You'll soon drip precious_

_Rubies..."_

Sam cradled the razor in his arms, holding it close. Kurt stares at the sight before him as Sam raises him arm for the last time, muttering those famous last words:

"At last! My right arm is complete again!"

Kurt moved forward, grasping ahold of Sam, freezing in place as thunderous applause resounded from the rest of the group. A grin slowly broke on both of their faces, and for the first time, they thought that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright.

A/N: Don't go anywhere yet! This is just the beginning! I'm hoping to update over the weekend. Enjoy for now! :D


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